


The Naked Kingdom - Book 1 - The Naked Prince - Ch 1 Bargains

by Notsalony



Category: Ancient Heart, Original Work
Genre: Commissioned, M/M, Multi, Other, original - Freeform, patreon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsalony/pseuds/Notsalony
Summary: Sometimes trying to get that which you think you deserve will do nothing but bring you great sorrow.  Be careful what you wish for.
Relationships: OMC(s)/OMC(s)
Kudos: 5





	The Naked Kingdom - Book 1 - The Naked Prince - Ch 1 Bargains

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank 7 for this.

“And you swear if I do this, Samir will be _mine_?” The robed figure bowed before his King.   
  
“I swear it Fahim, as Khadim will be my successor, I have no need of my second born. You may do with him as you wish once this is done.” The old King sat on his throne of gold and studied the ageless man before him. He wasn’t sure when it had dawned on him that the man was older than him. Perhaps the fact that he’d taken the thrown from his father at an early age and the man had yet to properly age in nearly fifty years since, while he himself had grown old and fat.   
  
“I will do as my King has asked. But it will be _costly_.” His dark eyes falling on the King’s personal slave. He’d had him for decades now, a white man who’d been caught steeling when he was a child and enslaved, he was now a man in his mid-thirties standing there naked and chained to the King’s throne.   
  
“What would you have of him?” The King followed Fahim’s eyes.   
  
“I would have his _life_ my King.” Fahim glanced at the King.   
  
“Why?” The King studied Fahim, barely glancing at the slave he’d cared for and had fucked for most of the slave’s life.   
  
“A life for a life. The price is both simple and not. For your life to be extended his remaining years must be taken.”   
  
“Does it need to be him?” The King wasn’t a cruel man, but he knew his eldest son wasn’t prepared for the troubles of state just yet.   
  
“No my King, but it need be a healthy person who would not be missed by many, we could always find someone… _younger_ …” The King didn’t care for the hunger in Fahim’s eyes. Was this how he had staid this young for this long? Taking the lives of slaves ever so often to feed his own need to stay alive? He was repulsed at the very idea and swore to himself and all the Gods above that he would only do this the once. He could not imagine becoming such a _beast_ as this thing that played at being a man before him and if he had not need of him he would surely have ended the creature’s existence, if such a thing were even possible.   
  
“no… no I do not require so many years. Just long enough to ensure that Khadim was ready for the throne.” The slave wept, he knew enough of their tongue now to know what was being said and what he would be made to give up shortly. The King reached out and touched his cheek. “If there were any other way…” His heart longed to be young and to take his slave like he had before.   
  
“We can always find another.” Fahim chuckled. The bastard knew. If he chose another then this Slave would have to give up his life anyways because he knew too much. And that was a risk. The council would not approve of a King using the dark magics to prolong his life. And he would put his family in danger. The King hardened his heart and his face as he looked at Fahim.   
  
“Take him you damnable jacket spawn. Take him and be done with it.” The King spared one last longing look as his slave was taken away and he sat alone on his throne, wondering if it was going to be worth it. The King hoped that it would be.   
  
Elsewhere Fahim smirked as he walked through the corridors, the King’s own slave his to do with as he pleased. Sure he’d stretched the truth, but he had not lied. It would take the boy’s remaining years to sustain the King, but if he had implied that would be a quick matter… well it wasn’t like the King was well versed in magical law. They were a Kingdom that had only risen in popularity with the out side world since the revelation of magic to the mundane world. Much had changed since then. A simple backwater Kingdom no one bothered to learn the name of was suddenly a go to stop for most major governments in the world, as Zaidina was the one place on the face of the Earth where one could gather the stone men called Archon stone.   
  
Archon stone was a rare enough material to find in the boarders of Zaidina, but on Earth it was almost unheard of to find it anywhere else. So they came, they came with their armies to take what wasn’t theirs only to be turned away by Fahim’s spells and those of the previous court Wizards. A thousand, thousand generations of wizards casting on the boarder and on the walls of their Kingdom and not even a single tank could cross their territory now. He smirked at himself, proud of what he’d done as he tugged on the naked slave’s bonds. Why did they seek the Archon stone? Simple, they feared magic once again.   
  
Magic had always been there. But now it had returned to the world of man. The foolish covenant of Flame and Sea had been broken and the laws of their kind that kept them hidden in the shadow world were gone. Now was the time when witches and wizards and other magical folk walked the world in the sun and used their powers openly. This made those in power wary and fearful. And when their research told of a legend that said the Archon stone could thwart magic and warn you if a magic user was in your midst, they’d turned to Zaidina and her mighty treasure. They’d come and come for months waging wars amongst themselves outside their boarders, held back by magics older than any of their countries and they had been like spoiled children too used to getting their own way and not used to being no often enough.   
  
“Fools, the lot of them.” Fahim spit on the floor as he walked. He’d lived seventy life times thus far, and he’d yet to meet a man put in power who had not been a worthless moron when he acted out of fear. He walked on to a blank wall, seven hundred years ago there had been elegant runes, carved skulls, etchings that told of the abyss of souls that lay with in this place. But those trappings of power and favor had faded and crumbled, as various Kings had come and gone and let their petty fears blind them to the true power that lay under Zaidina. Six hundred years ago the King at the time had found that detestable religion of the lands and had set about destroying any trace of the history of sorcery that had one been so rich. Only keeping Fahim and his master on because he needed them, but they had been stripped of much, virtual slaves made to debase themselves before him and his court of monks and priests.   
  
That fool had cost him his master. Without the steady supply of lives to the Abyss his master had aged, and withered until he was no more. He’d stood naked before the bon fire they had made of his Master and his prized possessions, calling them heresy and abomination. So much knowledge lost that night. Fahim had been assumed to be a worthless slave then and had been passed around by the King and his court. Used and abused he’d been denied the same supply that had kept him in his late teens for a hundred years, and he’d been allowed to age like a mortal again. He who had been meant to be young forever was now at the cusp of his prime physically. And he was not going to give that up lightly.   
  
“You will do greatly towards easing my aches.” Fahim smirked at the slave he was holding the chain to and walked through the wall, it rippling around him as he pulled the slave in. Instantly inside there was a wailing and over whelming sound of sorrow.   
  
“what is this place?” The slave looked around fearful, his face even more pale as they passed dark alcoves hewn in rock that seemed to drink in light as they passed them.   
  
“This is the Well of Sorrows, the Abyss of Zaidina. And here is where you will take your last breath, when the time comes.” Fahim smirked, walking down past people and vague figures in the dark screaming and sobbing in immeasurable pain.   
  
“What have you done to them?” The slave was lost in terror now.   
  
“I have put their worthless lives to better use.” He stopped at an alcove and lit a torch in it revealing a naked man in his fifties, his mouth hung open in terror as he silently screamed, his eyes long since gone pale from blindness. “This was the bastard who raped me the first time. Took my innocence and then passed me around the court like a fucking slave. So as soon as I had the strength I brought him here and did to him what I plan to do to you. His agony feeds my life as yours will do for the King. Well… the King and myself. There’s no need for him to get all of your life force… he doesn’t want to live forever, just halt his aging for a few short years.” The torch light was sucked out and the naked man once more swallowed up by the darkness.   
  
“Now…” Fahim walked farther on till they reached an empty well-lit alcove. “This is where you will live from now on. If you can call what you will endure living.” He shrugged as he strapped the slave to the stone slab that stood in the center of the alcove. “There we go…” He smirked as he double checked the bonds. “Can’t have you escaping. You might try to warn the King.” He laughed, cackling as he snapped his fingers and the instrument try stood up on spindly spider like legs and walked over to him, unfurling wet leathery folds on its flat surface to reveal the tools he would need. The salve flinched at the repulsive sight.   
  
“I know… they are quite… unique. Once these beasts roamed our lands. But my master saw their potential. He trained this one from a new born and trained him well. It knew when my master was murdered. And it was what saved me from my bondage.” He stroked the moist folds of leathery flesh and smiled at the deep murmuring of happiness that came from the strange creature.   
  
“You’re mad!” The slave struggled.   
  
“Oh yes. I’m mad. Furious in fact. But not insane.” He patted the cheek that the King had so recently stroked. “No… I have had six hundred years to nurse my grudge against the King and his ilk. Binding me to the castle grounds and restricting my movements. Generation after generation of fools. Each forgetting the lesson of their forefathers. And now… now the King makes a dark pact with me, to enslave his second born son and make him _mine_.” He smirked. “And once he wears the brand of slave, any loss in lineage that happens later… well they council and the Kingdom will never stand for _him_ to take the throne. And my revenge will be complete.” He shrugged, “After that I’ll have time enough to transform Zaidina into what she should have been all along.” He picked up his tools and began to carve obscene runes of long forgotten languages into the slave’s flesh. He would turn the slave into a vessel to age one minute every ten years or so, but that would stretch out his life force to give the King a few years and give himself an additional hundred or so years just from this one slave. Maybe less… he was older than his preferred victims. In the year after the fall of the King who had found religion he had taken a dozen slave children and made them into vessels. Now almost six hundred years later they were barely in their thirties, their families long since dust on the wind. And he would feed off of them for the rest of time.   
  
Later as nameless darkness enclosed around a slave who’s name had been swallowed up in pain, stood blind to the world as the screws in his eyes twisted deeper bringing fresh screams from his parched throat, he focused beyond the pain long enough to cry out to the gods of Zaidina. Ancient primordial horrors that had roamed these lands before the mortals who held tenuous control over the reins of power here, their names curses in the oldest tongues, were never spoken of these days save by the salves. If Fahim had stopped to think, he’d have realized he’d taught the slaves to worship the old ones from before and that had out lived his enslavement and was now something the slaves still practiced even now. So the nameless slave called out to them and focused in on that single thought as best he could.   
  
He could almost see them in the darkness, moving in unfathomable ways that hurt his mind to look at in this endless dark, but he knew that in that moment they were listening to him. He didn’t know if they’d do anything, but they were at least curious enough to hear his words as he stood suspended in the darkness naked before these ancient terrors who had not known the tones of man in many generations. But as he dwelt there in their places of power, he felt his body less and less.   
  


***

  
  
In the throne room the King was finishing up paper work for matters of state when his hands, for the first time in a decade, didn’t hurt. He glanced at how the age spots slowly began to fade and how his back was feeling better too. It was done then. He sighed, deeply wounded at the loss of his lover but decided that he should set things soon to get Khadim ready to ascent and Samir ready to be a slave. He didn’t like it, but it was the cost that Fahim had demanded for making his life last that much longer.   
  
Wiping away a tear at his loss, he finished up his paper work and went to his empty bed chamber. The first time his bed had not been warm when he came to bed. And it did nothing to abate his mood as he laid there longing for that which he had so freely gave up without truly understanding what he was cleaving out of his life. So he would spend that night alone and resolve in the morning to find another slave to take to bed. He would have others, a slue of boys and men to take his bed and warm his sheets, but none of them would ever be to him what that one had been. And as he slept alone in that cold bed he realized for the first time that he had paid too high a price.   
  
His sleep was troubled all night long. Strange faceless creatures walking in dark shadowy places and his former slave stood in their midst, speaking in a tongue he didn’t know, begging him and no matter what he did he couldn’t get to the slave. He was exhausted long before the morning came.   
  
The King awoke in the morning, and sought out his eldest. Khadim was in his bed chamber, lazily fucking his personal slave, a boy not much older than him, naked as he writhed on the prince’s cock. The doors left open from where the servants had brought the prince his food, and left the prince to fuck his slave openly and unashamed as people came and went from his chamber.   
  
“Father, I didn’t expect you so soon.” Khadim smiled, his smooth face and body glistening as he moved putting the naked slave on his back and began to fuck him in earnest now. His taught ass flexing as he pounded away.   
  
“I plan to make an announcement about the plans of succession later today.” The King sat down and watched his son fuck the boy, both of them with in sight of their twenty first year. “I plan to name you as my successor.”   
  
“Really?” Khadim smiled bright as he bottomed out in his slave’s upturned ass, enjoying himself before pulling back and slamming home again and again. “I wasn’t sure you were going to pick me.”   
  
“You are first born…”   
  
“True… but Samir…” Khadim tilted his head.   
  
“Will have his own… _tasks_ …” The King sighed, cutting across his son who stopped his thrusting to study his father.   
  
“What has happened?”   
  
“A choice had to be made…” The King couldn’t meet his son’s eyes.   
  
“Father…” Khadim moved closer to his father, studying his face. “I have to make the rounds this morning in a little while. We need to speak then.”   
  
“We will speak when you get back.” The King patted his hand and walked out leaving his son to sit there beside his slave.   
  
“What do you make of that?” Khadim turned to his slave.   
  
“I think he’s made a deal with Fahim.” The slave sighed heavily.   
  
“He wouldn’t…”   
  
“His slave has not been seen since last night.” Khadim frowned at that, realizing that his father had come here alone. He didn’t like that in the least, but all he could do was shrug, his father would tell him the truth later on. Maybe, at least he wanted to believe he would.   
  
“I’ll look into it.” Khadim looked his slave in the eyes and they nodded together before the slave went down on his master, nursing on his cock till he was nice and hard again before sheathing his master in his tight ass. The prince smiled before kissing his slave and finding both of their happy release in the end. Mid orgasm he shivered, seeing a shadowy figure standing outside his room.   
  
“Who’s…?” He frowned, his eyes fluttering shut as the shadowy person raised a finger to its boney lips.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story, search Notsalony on Patreon, the rest of this story is going up there. This just a taste of some of the original fiction that is going up there.


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